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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389204">love bites, love bleeds (it's what i need)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancyfanstuff/pseuds/fancyfanstuff'>fancyfanstuff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(tags and I have a complicated relationship), Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Sensuality, Snippets, Vampire AU, basically Emma got the hots for the local Dracula, but it's also a coherent story, uhhh what genre is this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:35:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancyfanstuff/pseuds/fancyfanstuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Nothing, not even the nastiest tale the village has to offer, could have prepared Emma for the sight of the monster.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It is that combination of beauty and danger that overwhelms her, takes her by surprise in its intensity. Everything about Lady Regina seems to be twofold; her smile, her courtesy, the grace that accompanies her every move, a kind of slow precision reminiscent of a feline. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma feels intriguingly horrified and horribly intrigued at once, and for a moment she wrestles with the urge to turn around and leave the mansion behind forever. Then her curiosity gets the better of her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Milady?” She says, proud of how calm her voice sounds, “You requested a maid?”</em>
</p>
<p>The Vampire AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love bites, love bleeds (it's what i need)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heyo!<br/>Tis me, with a more or less new story (the truth is that I wrote this in April, as an original tale, but I figured it fit SwanQueen too, and what's the use in storing stories away on my pc when I can share them instead). I hope it's not too out of character due to it's origin - I tweaked some bits here and there to fit it better, I promise! Also, lol, I can't believe I made Emma a maid. Here's to power dynamics, everyone! (Though also, Regina is a big ol' softie, you'll see).<br/>Anyway, I better leave you to it. Enjoy! ^^</p>
<p>P.S.: title taken from Love bites by Def Leppard</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nothing, not even the nastiest tale the village has to offer, could have prepared Emma for the sight of the monster. Granted, in broad daylight the terror of Lady Regina is supposed to be contained, tame, so it isn’t like Emma expected blood and gore. She has also been warned of her treacherous appeal, a trick, it is said, to lure in villagers. Visitors. Victims.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is that combination of beauty and danger that overwhelms Emma, takes her by surprise in its intensity. Everything about Lady Regina seems to be twofold; her smile, her courtesy, the grace that accompanies her every move, a kind of slow precision reminiscent of a feline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma feels intriguingly horrified and horribly intrigued at once, and for a moment she wrestles with the urge to turn around and leave the mansion behind forever. Then her curiosity gets the better of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Milady?” She says, proud of how calm her voice sounds, “You requested a maid?”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The walk to the mansion is a tenuous but necessary one. Lady Regina might appear amicable enough, but Emma isn’t going to be lured in by friendly smiles and harmless teasing. At night-time the monster awakes and no room in the house will be safe from its bloodlust.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Emma.” The lady is upon her suddenly, her motions silent even in the elaborate silk dresses she’s always wearing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Milady,” Emma looks up, refusing to acknowledge the rapid thumping of her own heart. There is no need to be afraid, not when the sun is still high in the sky and a thousand times reflected in Lady Regina’s eyes. “What is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She freezes when a pale finger strokes over her neck, coming to rest right over her pulse point. There’s a gentle press, a pause the length of a fractured heartbeat, and then the hand withdraws. An unreadable smile paints Lady Regina’s lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have good blood. Sweet scent, steady flow. It does make one wonder…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t have to.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do you come here?” The question comes out of nowhere, and Emma almost loses her balance on the ladder she uses to dust off the chandeliers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean, mila – Regina.” The lady has only recently requested they drop the titles. “I work here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the shiny brass, Emma sees Regina’s reflection move closer until she’s almost under the ladder. She seems thoughtful, distracted and yet entirely focused on Emma.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, my question is… Why did you take this job? What made you come to the haunted house to wait on Countess Dracula?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma hesitates, rubs at a stain on one of the chandelier’s arms to bridge the uncomfortable silence that suddenly pools between her and the lady. She’s unsure about how serious Regina is, if the question is part of a test she needs to pass in order to stay. And what if she answers wrong, will Regina simply let her go, or try to capture her, keep her until nightfall and then… Emma banishes the thought with a determined shake of her head. Regina raises an eyebrow, and she realises she still hasn’t replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need the money,” she hurries to say, figuring that it’s probably safest to just admit the truth. “A single woman, unmarried, no family, no inheritance, that’s as bad as life insurances get. Few are willing to hire me and, all due respect, milady, you pay twice as well as anyone else.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For a moment, Regina is quiet, her dark eyes watching Emma closely, before a lazy smile spreads on her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No family whatsoever? Nobody to come home to? To notice if you go missing. My dear Emma, you shouldn’t have told me...”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The stains on the stairwell are fresh, Emma is sure of it. Not only is there no way she could have missed them the day before, but they also emanate a weak smell, rusty, metallic, and terribly full of implications. Her stomach turns.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t know what she expected; that Regina just sort of stops feasting now that Emma is with her every day, or that she wouldn’t leave the aftermath for her maid to clean up. In a way, Emma supposes, she should be glad that Regina has eaten. The lady started stalling for time two weeks ago, showering Emma with tasks when the sun already sits low in the sky, the hungry glint in her eyes becoming more pronounced with every passing minute. At least that problem should be solved now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And indeed, when Regina appears on top of the polished stairs a while later, her skin has a vital glow to it and she is beaming. The rings beneath her eyes, so pronounced before, have faded entirely, her pupils are blown wide and pitch black, and there’s an additional smoothness to her voice as she purrs a welcome.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a price for this strength, a price that is steep and paid for in human blood. Emma should feel repulsed, at least nauseous, but instead she’s enchanted with this new, voluptuous version of Regina.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you have a favourite blood type?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as she’s asked, Emma feels dumb. Regina has prepared lunch for her, an unusually regular occurrence given that it’s technically Emma who should serve her. But of course, Regina never requests common food. A fact that Emma has just shone a giant flash light on. She ducks her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>However, Regina only smiles. She’s in a good mood, her lips darker than usual with the remnants of a recent meal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“An excellent question and one I cannot quite answer. You see, there is so much more than the type to be considered – age, gender, health, and various other factors all play a role, as well as a very personal scent that’s almost unique to every person.” She pauses, drags her tongue over her teeth as if retracing the taste her last victim has left. “Generally, I do prefer an A over a B any time, just like I value women over men, people in their thirties over younkers. And I have this annoying tendency towards smokers. You wouldn’t believe how delicious they can be on a cold December evening.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma didn’t notice her jaw had dropped open until Regina closes it with a laugh, her finger lingering under her chin for just slightly longer than appropriate. She feels her cheeks colour but forces herself not to look away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How… interesting,” she manages, “Good thing I don’t smoke.” It sounds flat even to her own ears.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Rainy weather always seems to have a negative effect on Regina’s temper. The monster lies closer to the surface during the dark hours, her body tense and high-strung as if charged by the flashes of lightning outside. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t eaten in a week.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Emma,” she hisses, her voice entirely void of its usual silkiness. She stands too close to Emma, her fingers shaking with either anger or restraint, it’s hard to tell. “I told you to light the candles in the east wing. How am I supposed to attract lonely wanderers if my home looks as dreary as I feel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma forces herself to cast down her gaze. She has learned not to oppose her mistress on days like this. However, the demure behaviour doesn’t seem to please Regina either, because she grabs Emma’s chin and forces her to meet her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you better hurry. I have no need for a useless maid.” The threat, though unspoken, is clear in her hungry gaze and the sharp nails digging into Emma’s skin.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The next day brings the safety of sunshine. And although Regina’s eyes are still bloodshot and her skin pasty, she has the good grace to look uncomfortable at Emma’s grim expression.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You should know that it wasn’t personal,” she says in lieu of a welcome. “I do appreciate your services as a maid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma just shrugs. She’s annoyed with herself for interpreting so much in Regina’s behaviour the previous day, knows that she should feel lucky she didn’t end up sucked dry in the dungeon. Although she’d rather die than admit it to herself, the sudden possibility of death had frightened her. <em>Regina</em><span> had frightened her. And she kind of hat</span><span>es</span><span> herself for how much this thought hurt</span><span>s</span><span>.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I almost didn’t come back today,” she says. It’s the truth, although Emma wonders if she really could have stayed away. Or if she’s in too deep already.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina’s solemn nod feels like a punch in the gut. “And I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you just go with it?” The vibrant anger in her voice is unexpected even to herself. “If you were so damn hungry, then why didn’t you take a sip? Add another A to your collection, compare the taste to your precious smokers?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You condemn me for my nature.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina is infuriatingly calm, and Emma wishes she could match the coolness of her tone, but her words emerge as a scream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I am nothing but a meal to you, an emergency stash should all else fail.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A spark of something flashes over Regina’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of her bones as she seems to withhold a different remark. It’s gone immediately though, and her expression is neutral once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It isn’t personal,” she repeats. Emma’s fury dissipates like smoke after a fire, leaving only ashes in its wake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because that is exactly the problem.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s so nice outside, why don’t we spend the afternoon in the garden? No more work for today.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma whirls around to find Regina standing inches away from her, an inviting smile on her lips and a chalice in her hand. It is filled with an undefinable red liquid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma frowns. “Please tell me this is wine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If that’s what you want to call it,” Regina retorts, then laughs at Emma’s aghast expression. “Of course it is. I’m not seeking to corrupt you.” A beat. Then: “Not like that anyway.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Heat blooms in Emma’s cheeks, but she makes herself meet Regina’s eyes as she takes the cup from her. “Getting me drunk won’t stop me from going home in the evening.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pity.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina has taken to watching Emma clean. It is unnerving to say the least, and Emma does her best to block out the unreadable gaze, but sometimes Regina isn’t content with simply regarding her from a distance. That’s when the real trouble starts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Allow me,” Regina would say, mouth hovering far too close to Emma’s ear. And then she pulls out a book from the shelves Emma is currently dusting, or rearranges the dried flowers on the mantlepiece just behind Emma’s arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every time, Emma’s heart begins beating faster. Every time, she is certain that Regina must notice. Every time, the lady doesn’t comment.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“What I don’t understand,” Emma says, leaning back in her chair, “is how your body knows when it is night and when not. Because transformation isn’t a conscious process, is it, where you yourself can decide when to grow teeth and claws?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They are at lunch, or rather Emma is. Regina is watching her from the other side of the table, her expression somewhere between amused and surprised.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You think I have claws?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina lets out a soft laugh. “What do you think I am, a monster?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma ducks her head, but it’s already too late; Regina has seen the telltale wince. Miraculously, she doesn’t seem to mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Emma, dearest,” she drawls, and the long consonants feel like a caress against Emma’s skin, “I am no animal. Feeding is a sensual process, it requires finesse, seduction. The teeth are a tool, but they would be useless without the knowledge how to wield them.” Regina pauses, tilts her head. Emma can see her own reflection mirrored in her eyes; she looks jumbled and flustered, and she isn’t surprised when Regina smirks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s what I’m talking about.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Lately, there are days when Regina keeps her distance, when her presence lingers upon the house almost ghostlike and Emma never catches as much as a glimpse of her. It worries her at first, because it’s such a harsh difference to the vampire’s usual behaviour, but then she notices a pattern to the withdrawals.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seems obvious, once she’s seen it; every time Regina keeps close, her pupils are dilated, her skin flushed. And then, when the shadows under her eyes begin to turn purple and she starts to grow haggard, she shrinks to the background – until one day she’s sated and affectionate again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma tries not to read too much into it. She fails.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why don’t you have a family?” Regina asks one time when Emma is getting ready to leave. She’s fed just a couple of days ago, and her fingers linger on Emma’s jacket, unmoving as if she couldn’t decide whether she should help her or stop her from closing it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma glances up. She’s surprised Regina even remembers what she’s told her months ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My parents abandoned me on the road when I was still a baby. An elderly couple took me in; she died when I was twelve and he took his life shortly after. I’ve lived on my own ever since.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She must have said those precise words a thousand times over the years. They come naturally, neutral, like she’s reading a script. She’s prepared for the reaction too; often it’s pity, sometimes people react worse, start talking about gods and karma and how Emma must have sinned in her previous life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina doesn’t mention gods or pity. Instead she nods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, and now you’re here.” The resolution in her voice must have caught her unawares too, because there’s an endearing flash of uncertainty in her usually so composed face. But before it can manifest in a real expression, it’s already gone.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, somewhere, in the very back of her mind, Emma is aware that Regina is, essentially, a murderer. That she feeds on humans, real people, who may have families and dreams and events they look forward to. And Regina deprives them of all that, in the most brutal way possible. Preying on trustful wanderers, whose only mistake it was to seek board and lodge in a beautiful mansion that hides a rotten core.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course Emma is aware that Regina’s viability is bought with death. She just avoids to think about it most of the time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So it comes quite unexpected really, when she hears a knock on the entrance door on day, and opens it to reveal an entire family of travellers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, how can I help you?” She says, rather dumbly, considering that Regina did put up ‘Accommodation for the night’ signs along the road.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The couple smiles and begins to explain their situation, but Emma’s eyes keep being drawn to the three children at their feet. The eldest cannot yet be nine years old, and he looks up at her with tired eyes and the poorly veiled hope for a warm meal and soft bed for once. The youngest flops herself on the doorstep and declares she won’t go another step.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A wave of dread and nausea washes over Emma. She interrupts the man still going on over his relief over the reasonable price of Regina’s offer. <em>If you knew</em><span>, she keeps thinking, and all but pushes his wife out the door, </span><em>if only the two of you knew</em>. They’d run as fast as their tired legs would allow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, there must have been a mistake,” Emma insists, grimacing when one of the kids starts complaining stridently. Hitherto, there has been no sign of Regina, who’d kept her distance all day. Emma feels dizzy when she thinks about the implications, wonders if the hunger in her mistress heightens her sense of smell, if all is already lost. “You need to go, and you need to go quickly. I’m sure there are cheaper rooms in the village, just follow the road, there, now go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The family leaves grudgingly and way too slowly for Emma’s taste, but eventually they disappear behind the row of trees that marks the end of Regina’s grounds. Only then does Emma allow herself to turn around and resume her evening’s work.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma was just beginning to hope that her little stunt had passed unnoticed, when she enters the mansion almost a week later to find Regina waiting for her with a letter. It turns out that the family filed a lengthy complaint against the treatment of guests in what was said to be a lodging. Of course Emma had to save a group of snitches. She almost rolls her eyes, but Regina’s serious face stops her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you send them away?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is disconcerting to hear her voice so sober when the rest of her body emits the sensuality that comes with having recently eaten.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You found someone else, didn’t you?” Emma replies, uncomfortably aware of how defiant she sounds. She tells herself that she did the right thing, that there’s nothing to be ashamed of, but somehow her righteousness gets lost in the depths of Regina’s sigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Darling,” she says, the endearment in harsh contrast to the way she keeps her distance from Emma – usually she can hardly keep her hands to herself in the first days after feeding. Emma is surprised how much she misses the fleeting touches and lingering glances. “Darling, you need to understand that you cannot change my nature.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not trying to,” Emma protests, though she’s wondering if that’s actually the truth. Meeting the supposed victims, actually talking to them, has somehow made them more real, and especially the children’s faces have haunted her dreams. On the other hand, she’s been aware of Regina’s palate before, and has never taken action except for that one time Regina had threatened Emma’s own life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I regret that this presents a source of conflict to you,” Regina says, her voice little more than a whisper, “But you have to make a choice here. Can you accept me the way I am, or not? In which case I would have to ask you to quit before…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t finish the sentence, extends her hand instead to carefully cup Emma’s cheek. “What is your answer?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a question but it’s also not. After all, they both know the answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sometimes you surprise me.” Regina sounds breathless as she comes up behind Emma, snow dotting her hair like tiny flowers. “Where on earth did you learn to run this fast?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A magician never reveals her secrets.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma has seldom felt so accomplished as when Regina tips her head back with laughter. Her lips are a startling red against the bloodless planes of her face, and Emma watches, enchanted, while Regina shakes silently for a long time before she straightens up again. Her fingers find Emma’s face with familiar certainty, her thumb brushing wistfully over Emma’s lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And since when are you funny?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma frowns, feels her skin crinkle under Regina’s touch. “Of course I am funny. Maybe you were just too distracted by my sweet-scented blood to notice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There, another joke!” Regina smirks, entirely unperturbed by the glower Emma sends her way. “Aren’t you full of hidden talents?”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>On good days, the ones where Regina’s eyes are blown wide with the aftermath of a feast and she’s the most affectionate, Emma thinks she might kiss her. They always end up so close, facing each other on one of the many unused beds in the old guest chambers of the mansion. Regina’s fingers are tracing invisible lines on Emma’s skin, feather-light touches, strokes full of longing, and Emma finds herself holding her breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s always left waiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe it’s for the best. It’s hard enough to say goodbye in the evening already, hard enough to stay away from Regina on her bad days, the ones she spends hauled up in the dungeons. Emma can only imagine how infuriating the situation must be for Regina, where the lust for blood is added to the list of unfulfillable desires.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe it’s for the best. And yet Emma cannot help but wish for that impossible kiss. She pictures it in her dreams, Regina’s eyes darker than ever as she leans in, her lips as soft as a fairy’s touch, her teeth sharp and demanding after that first tender contact. Emma wonders what Regina would taste like, whether her tongue would still bear the metallic tang of her last victim’s blood. If Regina even had a personal taste or if it had gotten lost over the decades.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And if Emma is ever going to find out.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Regina’s voice is low, gravelly. She leans casually against one of the many pillars carrying the ceiling, pretending to inspect her nails when Emma knows she’s looking down to hide the hunger in her eyes. She should feel grateful for the consideration, but mostly she selfishly wishes Regina would meet her gaze so they could part properly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know perfectly well I can’t.” The way she says it sounds almost hopeful, and Emma realises that part of her wants Regina to protest, to defy reason, to make her stay and damn the consequences. <em>Feeding is a sensual process</em><span>. Emma holds her breath, waits with her heart beating rapidly, erratically.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>But Regina stays silent, only digs her nails in her palms hard enough </span><span>to make</span><span> her knuckles turn </span><span>white</span><span>. Emma suppresses a sigh, </span><span>then</span><span> leans down to pick up her bag. </span>It’s already almost too late, the sunlight filtering through the single window dangerously red. She will have to make haste to reach town before it is dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promises. Regina only turns away, but not before Emma spots the hurt in her beautiful eyes. Her heart clenches, but she leaves anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina’s teeth are a marvel. Even at day, they seem to be sharper, whiter too. A straight line of flawless fangs, and Emma has to remind herself that they can also be deadly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happens if I cut myself?” She murmurs, her head resting comfortably in Regina’s lap. The day’s work is done and they have drifted too close to each other again. “Would you be drawn to the blood even when it’s bright out?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina hums in contemplation. Her eyes are closed and in the soft afternoon light her skin shines like polished marble.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not enough to be of any danger, I’m sure. Why, are you planning on seducing me?” Her tongue flicks teasingly against her cuspid. When Emma doesn’t answer immediately, she opens her eyes. “Oh dear. You are serious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m just thinking, maybe it’s worth a test. Maybe a small taste would satisfy your curiosity. Maybe it could make this,” she gestures awkwardly at their positions, Regina’s lips as far away from Emma’s skin as their closeness allows, “easier.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or maybe it would whet my appetite and make it harder. We cannot risk it, Emma. There has to be another way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What if there isn’t?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina looks at her long enough to make Emma’s hands tingle with anticipation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There has to be,” she repeats.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>There isn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lust is a terrible terrible creature when it lives untended to for too long. It is a monster in its own right, a creeping hunger that grows with every passing day until suddenly it strikes, kills reason in a single, overwhelming blow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, it’s Emma who falters first. For all her attitude, Regina remains fiercely protective of Emma’s well-being and all the trials it puts them through.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t care if I die,” Emma claims one day, when the soft touch of fingers on her face is driving her mad again. Her desire is mirrored tenfold in Regina’s eyes, yet somehow, the vampire manages to stay resolute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I do. We can’t, my love, we can’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma considers her for a long time, the line of her jaw, the planes of her cheeks, the sweep of her eyelashes. She is breathtaking in the way a pantheress would be, all dark grace and effortless menace, and Emma remembers the first time she’d entered the mansion like it was yesterday.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please,” she whispers. She’s never asked anything of Regina, and the novelty of the word seems to float in the air between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina casts down her eyes. For a split second, she seems old, the kind of old only a monster can be. Then she nods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have received bookings for a couple next week.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t need to say more. Emma understands that the meagre amount of safety Regina can provide will be paid for by those two travellers. She can’t bring herself to care.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The mansion looks different at dusk. Older, almost ancient, all edges and shadows and corners with history. It truly seems haunted now, and Emma wonders if she made a mistake after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She is alone in one of the rooms on the second floor, watching the last rays of sunlight fade in carmine streaks. The door is locked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just a precaution,” Regina has said. Her eyes, though huge because of the feast, have looked worried all day. Emma cannot blame her; her own heart is beating erratically and way too fast as she turns towards the door, waiting for Regina’s sign.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t open unless I explicitly say so. I’ll have to test my body first, see how it reacts to the presence of a human nearby. We just have to pray I can remain conscious enough to keep from giving you the signal even when I’m not in control of myself…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina trailed off then, her gaze getting lost in the distance until Emma had reached out for her hand to squeeze it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You will be fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh, how she hoped she was right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A shuffle sounds from the other side of the door now, soft like a dress brushing over the floor. Emma holds her breath, listens for Regina’s voice. When nothing comes, she dares to call out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Regina?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A beat. Then:</p>
<p><br/><br/>“Darling.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is Regina’s voice but it also isn’t. It’s more. After feeding, Regina speaks silkily, with all the smoothness of a purr, the deep warmth of velvet. Apparently, being in her true form, only reinforces the effect, because the sonorous sound reviberating through the wood chills Emma to the bone, washes over her in a thousand shivers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She almost rips open the door right there and then, but she’s promised Regina to wait, to give her time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are you feeling?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a silence so weighted, it feels suffocating. Then Regina laughs, quietly and melodically, entirely unfamiliar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am well. Open the door.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on tumblr @fancyfanstuff ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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